Home again, home again, jiggety-jig

Well, I made it home Sunday night after a dreadful flight and all sorts of hassles at customs and missing my connecting flight to O'Hare and ... well, I made it home exhausted.  I am getting too old for this. There was a time when ... Never mind.

I took a limo from O'Hare down to Barona. Damien welcomed me with open arms and heart, but immediately shushed me because we had a house guest. The plaguey Hank Pharr was still here. Fortunately I was too wiped out to care about anything but taking some aspirin and going to bed. Damien assured me that the Pharr thing would be gone by the time I awoke.

Which, I am happy to say, was true. I slept until nearly noon and woke to the nuzzle of two cats and the sound of Damien moving about in the kitchen.

It is good to be home.